


Reflection

by AngelGirl4212



Category: Silverchair (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelGirl4212/pseuds/AngelGirl4212
Summary: A girl looks in the mirror. The reflection that she sees slowly becomes something else.





	Reflection

There's a scene in that new Hulk movie where Bruce Banner is wiping steam off his bathroom mirror and finds himself staring into the eyes of his alter-ego. It's almost as if the Hulk caught sight of Bruce and thought that it was time to clear his mirror too. Two consciousnesses divided by a flimsy piece of glass. Sometimes I feel like that.

 

I'm on one side of the mirror. Maybe I'm tying my hair back or maybe I'm putting in a new pair of earrings. It doesn't matter. The point is that I'm doing something mundane. Something normal. But I'm always distracted by the person watching me from the other side of that mirror.

 

A fair angel whose image has come to represent my own demons. From the moment that I heard his voice over the radio pleading with his own torment, something clicked into place. I recognized his plea: _“Please die Ana.”_ For me, the knowledge that a shadow was lurking just beyond the steam was suddenly replaced by stolen flesh and blood.

 

And while I'm quite certain that the real man wouldn't be pleased to discover the monster my imagination has created, I'm powerless to change it. This new disease does what he wants and even the slightest rebellion can cause months of mental torment.

 

So while I disapprove of the face that Ana's stolen, she's become that image in my nightmares. Her form more like his with each passing day; her green eyes now a clear and unmistakable blue. And although anger and self-destruction run through them, I love her even more in this image. My own unwillingness dissolving Timidly, I meet his eyes, and he knows that I'll do anything for him (for _her_ ).

 

My eyes blaze at my mind's betrayal, tearing me between desires. As blood fills my ears, my courage is reduced to apologies. I feel dirty and ashamed, brought down by cold blue eyes.

 

Everyday we wipe away more of the steam. Everyday I hope that today will be the day that one of us will break the glass and end this struggle. I love him and I want him dead. One of those emotions have to win someday and when that happens, I don't know if I will have the strength to keep him from destroying what's left of me. I'm afraid that I won't be the one who wins.

 

He knows this. I see the arrogance reflected in his eyes.

 

My stomach clenches and I know that there's still some hope within me, even after all this. As long as I'm revolted by his appeal, there's still hope for recovery. I hang onto that thought because under the quiet stare of my disease, hope is all I have.

 

Until I can find the strength to end this battle....

 

Until one of us can walk away free.....

 

The End

 


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